


25 Days of Christmas

by coolconnor95



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 25 Days of Christmas, Christmas, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hanukkah, anti Regina, not exactly but if you are a huge fan of regina you might not enjoy some of these stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolconnor95/pseuds/coolconnor95
Summary: This is a collection of Christmas oneshots based around a special quilt my family has. Each oneshot will feature different characters, so make sure to look at the summaries and character lists before each one to make sure you're interested! Characters tagged will be the characters in the most recent chapter. Merry Christmas!
Comments: 2





	1. December 1 - Wreath

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: It's the first day of the twenty five days of Christmas! Each chapter will have different characters, and it's own summary/character list at the beginning so you can decide if it's one you'd want to read. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Summary: Sometimes, nuns are too busy to get done everything they need to. When the Christmas decorations for the orphanage go missing, they need some extra help.
> 
> Characters: Nova, Blue, and an oc inspired by Ray from Princess and the Frog.

Ray was a pest. That's what the nuns said, but they were joking, and he knew it. He made the younger ones laugh, and the older ones roll their eyes, but they appreciated what he did for the church. Perhaps that was why young Sister Astrid felt comfortable enough to approach him after the sermon.

"And how is God's divinely beautiful nun doing today?"

She blushed and giggled. They knew by now that he just flirted for the fun of it and didn't mean it. The nuns who did not like it, he no longer flirted with. It was just the ones who appreciated it that he continued to be silly with.

"Well aren't you just a _Ray_ of light," she commented, before giggling again.

His smile widened, and he leaned in closer to her. "That's what I'm here for, Sister. To be a ray of light." That was why he kept coming back to the church week after week. It certainly wasn't to hear the priest droning on and on. Nor was it dressing up in his one "good" outfit every single time. No, he was here because the church was one of the few places trying to help others, and he liked helping in the ways he could. And of course … there was that other reason that he didn't like to talk about. The one that was blasphemy and would get him in serious trouble with the Lord.

"I know Ray, that's why I thought you could help us," she said, suddenly getting serious. "I know you donate a lot of money, but the children are disappointed, and Mother Superior is too proud to ask for help."

It still made him want to yell at the congregation every time he was reminded he gave more money than the others. People gave him funny looks for being the only black man in church, but they didn't want to donate their own money? No wonder Billy never wanted to come with him. "Sure, Sister Astrid. What's going on? If the kiddos at the orphanage are upset, I gotta make it right."

"It's … the Christmas decorations. When they were put away last year … well we don't know where they were put. Not the ones for the orphanage. Mother Superior has been tearing the place apart, when she can, but …"

"Say no more, say no more," Ray interrupted. "Mother Superior is busy. She doesn't have time. This is my day off work. I have nothing but. I'll find those decorations."

Ray only took a moment to hear where the head nun had already looked, before heading to search in the attic. Ray was always someone who rushed into things.

He didn't give much consideration to dust or grime. He didn't give much consideration to anything really, as he searched through box after box, determined to find the right one while the nuns were busy taking care of children and taking care of their other duties.

* * *

Mother Superior pressed a hand to her temple. Her head was throbbing. She'd only been in her office for one minute, after comforting a crying child and making sure they all had food. Now, she was looking at some expenses, and the numbers were running together. All she really wanted to do was go find the lost decorations and turn all the disappointed faces into smiles, but she wasn't a magician! She only had so many hours in the day, and it seemed all of them were being taken up by work.

As if to prove her point, there was a loud knock at the door. She sighed, exasperated. Her temper could be a bit short as she was always stressed and on edge. Even worse, perhaps, was when the door swung open without her approval. Her anger flared for a moment … until she saw who it was, and what he was doing.

Ray stood in the doorway, swinging a wreath around on his arm. The orphanage's wreath … "Sister Astrid said you lost some boxes? They're all stacked out here now, in the hallway. Figured the kids would wanna help decorate."

"Ray … Sister Astrid asked you to do that? But mass ended hours ago! The kids just sat down to dinner."

Ray walked closer, and soon he was in front of her desk, giving her that smug smile that made her want to slap him … and also do something else with him. Something a nun wasn't supposed to want to do. "Ah, Cher. Is that an invitation to join you for dinner? I'm flattered, really, but I'm too busy today."

She scoffed as he placed the wreath on her desk. "If you were too busy, you wouldn't have found the decorations."

And he had the audacity to chuckle at her. She scoffed again, but secretly she was enjoying it. This was a rather nice break from the stress of work.

He looked her right in the eyes then. His brown eyes held her gaze. It was intense … almost as intense as she was. "I'm busy helping people, just like you are Evangeline. Difference is, I get to choose how I help. You don't."

Why were his words enough to make her knees feel weak and curse her decision to ever be a nun? She could help others in different ways, ways that allowed her to help others while being a lot less lonely.

He straightened, but before she was aware what she was fully doing, Mother Superior had the wreath in her arms again. "Wait! You can't just walk out of here without showing the kids Raymond. I am not taking credit for your hard work. The children you did this for should know it was you." She quickly shoved the wreath back at him, and took it gently in his fingers.

His smile was softer now. He nodded to her. "Well alright then, Evangeline. We can go tell the kiddos."

Normally, someone dropping the "sister" before a nun's name was very disrespectful, and yet, when Ray did it, Mother Superior never felt disrespected. She felt fully seen and known. It was like Ray was looking past her uniform into her soul, and was deciding to tell her that he'd seen it. Perhaps that was why she always wanted to be herself around him, instead of feeling like she had to guide him as she did the other nuns, the children in the orphanage, or the other members of the congregation.

Ray was oddly quiet as Mother Superior lead him to the dining hall. He usually couldn't stop talking. She tried to look a bit closer at him, but for the moment, she couldn't figure out what was going on in his head. For a man who normally blurted out what was in his head, it felt rather strange.

But once they were around kids, his broad smile and playful personality were back in full force. He ruffled one kid's hair with a free hand, holding up his wreath in the other to show them. "You guys can decorate this place later. I found the decorations for ya!" There were cheers from the kids, and many of them wanted to hug Ray.

Mother Superior gave them a few minutes to thank Ray, before rescuing him from the thong of grateful children and telling them to finish their dinner. "If you want time to decorate before bed, you best be finishing your food!" That was enough to get the children to sit back down and let Ray leave.

She wanted to take him to the door herself, but he was once again quiet. Too quiet for him. She kept glancing at him, until finally they were at the door, and she couldn't stop from asking any longer. "Ray, you are never this quiet. And you just saved Christmas for the children. What's going on?"

He didn't meet her gaze. He was acting so strange. Ray, acting shy, wasn't normal. And yet here he was, shuffling his feet as if he was one of the children she looked after! "You said I did this for the children. And I did but … that's not all I did it for."

"Sister Astrid was with the children. She knows you helped. She was smiling. Did you want to talk to her?"

He laughed. She was surprised. It was a bitter laugh from the man who was so often embodying joy. "Oh, Evangeline. I didn't do it for Astrid. She asked me. But she's not the one I – well. Might as well just say it. She's not the one I come to church for. She's nice. She's not you, Cher. And yes, before you say it, I know you're a nun. No, I don't expect anything from you. Just … just a thanks. For the decorations. That's all."

If only she'd met him a few years sooner. Maybe she would have made different choices. But then, who would be looking after the children? No, they needed her. The other nuns needed her. The congregation needed her. It didn't matter that she needed someone like Ray. He was relaxed when she was stressed. He was calm when she was anxious. He was spontaneous when she felt trapped by tradition. But none of that mattered. She had made her promise to the church, and it was far too late to break it.

She reached forward, placing a hand on his own, the one still holding the Christmas wreath. "Thank you, Ray." Her voice was soft, gentle, and sincere. She couldn't tell him what was in her heart, but she could give him the thanks he longed for.

He almost instantly stopped looking at the floor. His smile was back, even if it didn't quite reach his eyes this time. "You're welcome, Cher. But I should do one more thing." It took him a moment, but soon, Ray had the wreath on the door of the orphanage. It made the place seem more cheerful, even than it had in previous years. Perhaps that was her imagination.

"Merry Christmas, Evangeline."

"Merry Christmas, Ray."

He walked away, and something inside Mother Superior said she shouldn't be letting him go. She should be keeping him close. But that's what always happened when Ray left. She always worried for his safety. She'd gotten so used to it, but after his love confession, she couldn't help but pay more notice. It was almost like she was afraid she'd never see him again; that something awful would happen.

But that was just a fear, right? Just like her nightmares of going to his house and finding it destroyed. She didn't even know where Ray lived!

And yet, despite finding it absurd, she stayed with the door open, shivering slightly from the cold air, and watching him leave. It was only once he was out of sight that she moved. First, she ran a hand gently along the wreath, and then she closed the door, to block out the cold. He'd brought warmth to the hearts of the children and herself … and yet Mother Superior couldn't help but worry for him.

By the next day, her worries would be forgotten, taken away by more than sleep. But the warm feelings she got while looking at the Christmas wreath would remain, even after she forgot who hung it that year.


	2. December 2 - Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Henry is excited to make a present, but things don't turn out quite how he expected. (If you are a Regina fan, you might find this to be too Regina critical.)
> 
> Characters: Henry Mills, Archie Hopper, Regina Mills, Pongo, and an oc that belongs to Wishful Dwarfing on fanfiction.net

Henry's mother was late picking him up from Kindergarten today, even though she'd told him not to get on the bus. She had something planned after school for him, but she wasn't there.

But that was okay! Henry loved his teacher, Miss Maia. She was sitting in the classroom with him and letting him play with some art supplies.

It was his idea, because his mother had been telling him about decorating the Christmas tree, and how important it was to have a beautiful star on top. With toilet paper, cardboard, tin foil, and some help from his very attentive teacher, Henry was able to make the topper himself.

"Mommy said it's supposed to be really pretty and shiny, so the lights glimmer off it," Henry was explaining as Miss Maia supervised his wrapping the tin foil around the cut out cardboard star, to make sure he didn't hurt himself. "I think she's going to love it!"

"Well I sure love it Henry! It'll look wonderful on top of your tree!" Miss Maia always gave him big smiles and lots of encouragement. Henry couldn't help but grin right back at her.

He finished wrapping the star and got Miss Maia to help him tape the star piece to the toilet paper roll, which was already covered in foil itself. "It's perfect!" Henry grinned, holding it out for her to see. Then, thinking of the perfect idea, he put it on his head for a moment, holding it there and smiling.

Miss Maia clapped her hands and giggled. "What a beautiful tree you make Henry!"

Henry placed the tree topper down for a moment, so he could hug his teacher. "Thank you for helping me make it Miss Maia."

"Of course, Henry! But you did all the most important parts. Make sure to tell your mother how hard you worked on it, okay?"

Henry nodded. He was still grinning as a teacher's aide came to get him, telling him his mother was there. Henry kept the star out of his backpack but let Miss Maia help him back into his winter coat and backpack. He waved goodbye as he followed the aide out to his mother's car, and let her strap him in.

She seemed frustrated today. Normally, when Mommy was frustrated, Henry tried his very best to be good and quiet and let her calm down. But today was different. "Look Mommy!" He showed her the star as she tried to buckle him into his seatbelt.

"It's great Henry," she said, but she didn't even look up at him. "Mommy packed you an outfit to change into. We're running late, but it's almost time for my job's Christmas party. You remember you need to be on your best behavior, right Henry?"

Henry frowned. Why couldn't she listen to him for just a minute? He squirmed a bit, causing his mother to sigh. "But Mommy, you didn't look."

She looked then, but she was angry. "Henry I don't have time for this!"

Tears were starting to well up in his eyes. He'd worked so hard on it! "But I made it! For our tree." He thrust out the star topper to show her. She glanced at it and scoffed. Henry stared at her in disbelief.

"Henry, we have a real Christmas Star at home. There's no need for that - whatever it is."

He couldn't hold back the tears anymore. He started to cry, right there in front of the school, as his mother finally finished buckling him into his seat. He'd made it for her! Why didn't she like it?

"Henry, I don't have time for this! There's no need for a tantrum over a stupid star!" But his mother's words only made him cry harder. Why couldn't she see how important this was to him? He'd made it for her, for them! Didn't she want him to be included? Didn't she remember how bored he'd been of all the silver and red balls on the tree last year? Why didn't she want to include him in decorating? She'd said she would this time! Did she not remember?

Too many thoughts swirled around in his head, and he couldn't fully grasp most of them. Instead, they just poured out as tears, running down his cheeks and splattering onto his winter coat.

"That's it!" Regina yelled, finally losing it after saying words that Henry hadn't really heard. He stopped sobbing instantly, out of fear, though tears were still leaking out of his eyes. She slammed his car door shut, before getting into the driver's seat and whipping out her phone.

Henry was deathly silent, but still not fully listening as she dialed a number.

"Henry's having a breakdown. I can't deal with this tonight. And you're the only one I trust with him," she said into her cell phone. "I have a party to get to. I'm going to drop him off at your house." There was a pause, and then she yelled "Yes right now! I just told you I don't have time!"

Henry jumped as she yelled, but she hung up quickly, and the ride was very short. Henry was vaguely aware that this didn't look like her office, through his tears. This was a house, one he was very familiar with. "Mommy, what about the party?"

"Kids who throw tantrums don't get to go to big boy parties," she told him coldly, and the tears came quicker as she unbuckled him from his car seat. His hands were still gripped onto the star he'd made, as if it could somehow save him from what was happening right in front of him.

Someone came rushing out, and he didn't have a lot of time to register where he was before something wet and warm was touching his face, trying to get at all the tears, and the bit of snot he'd managed to create from crying so hard.

Henry didn't call out the dog's name, but he did wrap his arms around the Dalmatian's neck, letting Pongo soothe him as Pongo's owner talked to Henry's mother.

"Regina, what –"

"Just take him I don't have time! I'm late as it is!" she snapped. Henry heard the sound of Archie gasping and something being pushed into his chest.

"Henry, be good." That was all she said before Henry heard a car door slam, and the sound of a car driving off.

Henry simply kept his face buried in Pongo's fur, even as he heard Archie approach them. "Hey, Henry. What's going on?" Henry didn't want to respond, so he didn't. He kept his face buried in Pongo's fur, still holding the star. Soon, he felt Archie's hand on his shoulder, gently trying to support him. Henry turned his attention from the worried dog to its concerned owner, and wrapped his arms around Archie, burying his tear and snot filled face into Archie's vest.

Archie soothed him, rubbing his back for a bit as Henry sobbed. After about a minute, Henry was feeling a bit calmer, though still very sad, and Archie spoke up.

"How about we get in out of this cold and you tell me what's going on, okay Henry?"

With a nod from Henry, Archie let him go, scooping up Henry's backpack in one hand, and letting Henry grab hold of his other. Henry's free hand gripped his star.

Henry glanced back to make sure Pongo was following them, before letting Archie lead him to the couch and take off his winter jacket. The little boy made it a bit difficult, refusing to let go of the star and switching it between his hands so Archie could gently tug off the sleeves for him.

Archie placed Henry's jacket to the side, not having to take off one of his own, as he hadn't worn one when he'd rushed out to greet Henry. He rubbed his hands together for a moment as he bent down to be at Henry's eye level.

"Henry, can you tell me what happened now?"

Henry nodded, before taking a deep breath. "Mommy was late picking me up from school, so Miss Maia said I could do art projects in her room. Mommy says tomorrow is when we decorate the Christmas tree, and that we need a shiny star on top. I made it for Mommy … but she thinks it's stupid." He lowered his head, still looking at it. Miss Maia hadn't thought it was stupid. Miss Maia thought it was wonderful. But the star hadn't been for Miss Maia … Henry's eyes were starting to tear up again.

Before he could start sobbing though, Archie was reaching forward, running his hand gently along the lovingly made star. "You worked really hard on this, didn't you Henry?"

Henry nodded, as he tried to hold back a sob.

"I think it's beautiful. And you like it a lot, don't you?"

Henry nodded again, as Archie's gentle blue eyes studied him. He liked it when Archie looked at him like that. Archie always noticed him in ways his mother seemed too busy to. That's why Henry loved visiting Archie, normally at least.

"Henry, I know your mother was a bit busy to really appreciate your gift. Do you want to try and show her again?"

Henry withdrew the star, pulling it closer to his chest as he started to vehemently shake his head. She'd just call it stupid again! He didn't want his work of art belittled, even if he was starting to think she may be right.

"Hmm, then, do you want to use it here? I know you aren't here with me as much as you are at your house, but you could help me decorate tonight. I've already started … but we can put your star on top of the tree."

Henry looked up slowly, shock taking over instead of his sorrow. "You mean it Archie? You want to use my star? Really?"

Archie nodded, giving Henry a smile. "Of course. That way, every time I look at the tree, I'll be reminded of you. Besides, my old topper was just Santa Claus. I like stars much better."

Henry practically leapt off the couch and into Archie's arms, hugging the startled psychiatrist. He sputtered a bit, before wrapping his arms back around Henry.

"Now, what do you say I make us some hot cocoa before we finish decorating the tree? I have a lot of ornaments left, but not as much room, you'll have to help me pick out the best ones, okay? With creative talent like yours, I want you to make the choices, okay?"

"Of course, Archie! I'll pick the best ones!"

Henry was nervous and unsure at first, worrying that he could pick a bad one, but as Archie approved of his choices, Henry got bolder and bolder picking them. He grinned as Archie said yes to yet another ornament, and after Archie lifted him up to help him hang it on the tree, Henry got a sip of his cocoa, with cinnamon and whipped cream of course. Archie always remembered how he liked it.

"You like all the ones I picked Archie!"

Archie nodded as he sipped at his own warm drink for a moment, swallowing before responding. "I like all the ornaments. Besides Henry … there's a secret about ornaments you should know." Archie lowered his voice as he spoke, and Henry scooted closer, to make sure he could hear the man.

"You're very special to me Henry. That means the things you like are very special to me too. Everything you pick? I'm going to love. Because I love you. You couldn't pick something wrong."

Henry studied his mug closely for a moment, trying not to let his eyes tear up at his friend's words. "Why isn't Mommy like that? Why doesn't Mommy think I'm special?" he questioned quietly.

There was a long pause, and Henry wasn't sure why. It was easier to study his half-empty mug of coco than to look at Archie right now.

"Henry, your mother is … very busy. She thinks you're special, she just has trouble remembering that sometimes."

Henry didn't like that answer. If he was so special, how could his mother forget? But Archie probably couldn't answer that. Henry didn't feel like asking, after he'd just asked and not gotten a good answer, so he stayed silent.

But soon, something shiny came into his vision, and he looked up to see Archie smiling as he offered him the star topper. "You ready to put on the best one of them all, Henry?"

It was better to focus on Archie than his mother right now. It was happier that way. Henry didn't want to think about how she was always too busy for him. So instead, he nodded, gripping the topper he'd made in his hands as Archie lifted him up really tall.

Henry was careful and slow, not noticing the strain in Archie's voice as his friend asked, "You got it Henry?"

"Almost," Henry answered, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he focused, making sure to get the star at just the perfect right. "There!"

Henry was soon back on the ground, staring up at the star on the tree and leaning against Archie's leg.

"It's perfect Henry. This will be the best Christmas tree ever, because you helped me with it."

Henry wrapped his arms around Archie again, but didn't take his eyes off the tree. He'd been right; Christmas trees did look better with a wide variety of ornaments and a homemade star on top.

"Thanks Archie. I think it's perfect, too."

* * *

Henry had fallen asleep not long after the tree was decorated, having been worn out from all the excitement. When Henry's mother came to pick him up, Archie wrapped him in a blanket to keep him warm in the December chill. There wasn't much of a conversation, beyond Archie telling her she could return the blanket at another time. Archie didn't trust himself to say what was on his mind in a polite way that night.

When he returned inside, he looked at the tree, a frown on his face as he looked at the topper. How could Regina not see the beauty in a gift made of love? Perhaps he shouldn't be so hard on her. Being a single mother and mayor at the same time must be hard. Then again … he knew someone who took care of more children and was going through more troubling events, who still made sure to cherish everything those she loved made.

Archie didn't often contact his patients late at night. But he knew she'd be up. Cherise Maia was only a phone call away.

"What do you need, Doc?" Her voice sounded groggy. She was likely still out of it from the medical treatment he knew she'd had today. The one that she was likely late to due to having to take care of Henry. And yet, Henry hadn't noticed anything amiss with his teacher. He'd just felt loved.

"Cherise. I saw Henry today, and I just wanted to let you know … he's really proud of that star topper you helped him make after school." He looked up at the shining silver star on his tree, feeling somehow safer just looking at it.

"You saw Henry? Good kid. Bitch of a mother," Cherise complained. Usually, outside of a session, Archie would try to defend Regina, as he would anyone. But tonight, he just didn't feel like it. "Did you see the topper? Henry worked hard on that."

"Yeah. I did. It's beautiful. Thank you, for helping him with it. I think that made his day."

She deserved to know how much he valued the star, after all. But she didn't need to know how Regina had almost crushed his joy of it.

"Course Hopper. That's my job as a teacher. But I didn't think it was your job to call me late at night to tell me about one of my students."

Archie shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. It just felt natural. "Well, it's not like his mother calls you much." He was almost ashamed of his veiled insult toward Regina, but it couldn't be helped. Archie had dropped everything to take care of her son, and Cherise had as well. Neither of them was his legal guardian. It was getting to a point where even Archie had to admit Regina wasn't just struggling to see her chances to get close to her son, she was straight up ignoring them.

"Dr. Hopper, did you just insult someone?!" her teasing voice sounded wonderful to him, even if it did make his cheeks turn red. At least she wasn't there to see. "Don't worry, I won't tell. It's hard not to insult that bitch of a mayor from time to time." There was a pause, as Archie tried to figure out what to say, but Cherise beat him to it.

"Thanks for the call. I worry bout him sometimes. Glad he had a good day."

"It wouldn't have been possible without you. I know you said it's your job but thank you all the same."

There was another pause. Archie knew Cherise wasn't used to friendly conversation. She liked to be bristly, except with her kids. She didn't like to let people close. It was only in talking about Henry, that Archie had gotten her to talk to him gently.

"Merry Christmas, Dr. Hopper."

He was still taken aback by that. By the time he'd muttered out "Merry Christmas, Cherise," she'd already hung up.

He put his phone down and leaned back to look at the star on his tree. By all rights, it should be on Regina's tree. But she'd lost her chance. It was his now, and he planned on cherishing it. Just like he and Cherise planned on cherishing her child, even if Regina was too busy to notice how desperately he needed adults to pay attention to him.


	3. December 3 - Holly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to update this. I got busy, finally finished the stuff I needed to, and then came down with a bad case of the flu. We might not get all twenty five of these, but I hope you enjoy regardless.
> 
> Summary: King George likes to celebrate the holidays by putting up holly all over the castle, but his son James has a very different opinion of the decoration.
> 
> Characters: James, George, and some minor ocs

It was such a pointless decoration, wasn't it? Holly was poisonous if ingested. Children often killed themselves by eating too many of the berries. And yet, due to the holiday season, the plants lined the halls.

James picked up one of the berries, rolling it between his thumb and pointer finger as he watched his father's servants place the holly around the halls. What was the point of this? Why spend so much money having their servants search for a poisonous plant in the woods and throw it all around the castle? To James, it just represented how their country was bleeding money, and how his father's relationship with the peasants was so very toxic.

He set down the berry slowly, picking up a leaf instead. Not only was it poisonous, but the sides were sharp. Sharp, like a dagger. Everyone here did love using violence to solve their problems. James honestly didn't know how to get through to anyone unless he was using his physical strength or the end of his sword; that's why it was so hard to articulate to his father just how useless the holly seemed to him. His father was one of the few people James didn't want to physically challenge.

He sighed, putting the leaf down again, careful not to let its edge touch his fingers, before walking down the hall. He couldn't stand here just judging the décor; he had somewhere to be, even if he didn't want to be there.

When he reached the door to his father's sitting room, he didn't fully enter, instead, leaning against the doorframe and staring at the king. "You wanted to see me?" he questioned, trying to sound arrogant and bored. His father said he didn't like when James had an "attitude," but he liked it less when James showed his true feelings, so he'd learned to hide them.

"We need more money, son. We won't have enough to impress Midas at the next feast, and we need his support."

James rolled his eyes. Money problems. Again. Was it ever anything different? Maybe if they used the money on something other than parties and fancy items, they'd be better off. Though, James couldn't say what they should be using the money on. It was almost shameful to admit, but his younger self had better ideas on how to spend money and run a kingdom. James felt like all he knew how to do was fight and look like he had everything together even when he felt like he was falling apart.

"What do you want me to do about it? I'm not the one who spent so much money on pointless decorations."

There was even holly here. His hand brushed against it as he smirked. It really was poison, wasn't it? It was draining their money supply, quite literally poisoning the kingdom.

"We need these to impress Queen Regina! You know that!" Did he really? James wasn't sure of anything anymore. Wouldn't it be easier to get money if they didn't spend so much? Maybe they wouldn't need other's help if they watched what they spent, but then his father always did act like royalty always deserved anything they wanted. James tried to act that way too, but it never felt like he'd really earned it. Perhaps it was because he knew he hadn't started out royal …

"I need you to get us more money James!"

"How! Gold doesn't grow on trees! I've hunted the giants to steal their treasures! What else do you want me to do? Create money out of thin air?"

But of course that wasn't what he wanted. The king never summoned his son in to help him think of ideas. James was muscle, not brain, at least according to his father.

"There's a small town to the north. Mining town. They just struck gold. I want you to gather some men and collect most of it. Remind them their town is on my land, so I own what they find."

Another 'tax' raid. James sighed. "Fine. At least it's something to do." But that wasn't true either. He hated going to take money from the civilians. They usually needed it. But then again, with the debt his father was getting into with other nations, the kingdom needed it too. It was all a headache, and one James didn't really like dealing with, since the answer was always "find more money" instead of "find ways to reduce spending." The second answer would be easier …

He turned around, waving a hand at his father as he walked out. "I'll bring you your gold." He heard the king sigh, but at least George didn't stop him. James really didn't feel like talking at the moment.

* * *

His father's intel was wrong. James' men had turned the town inside out, but there was no hidden gold. It was empty, as poor as any other village, and James was angry. Angry that his father would expect him to bring home gold. Angry that he'd terrified these people. He didn't have a very good way to express all his frustrations, so it resulted in him kicking a bucket, hard. The wooden tool thudded to the ground hard, and rolled to the feet of a little girl. She clung to her father, and for some reason all that did was make him feel worse.

"We're just going to have to go home," he told his men suddenly. He'd be taking anger and sharp words from his father, but he'd just have to manage. He could always find ways to vent his frustrations later. Just like normal.

"But sir, the king –"

"Damn the king," James interrupted. "I can't give my father something that doesn't exist, now can I! It's not like that damn holly, where if you search for long enough you can find it! He wants gold that doesn't exist!"

Everyone was scared of him now. The soldiers, the peasants … or, most of the peasants. The girl's father was looking at him in an odd way. An almost pitying way. And that just made James angry.

"What are you looking at?"

James' guards would have looked away at his threatening tone. This man didn't. "Your father needs money?"

James huffed. "What's it to you?" He hadn't done anything yet. Usually when someone spoke out of turn, he would start yelling. But this time, something felt different. Something _was_ different. For once, people weren't just offering him excuses, they seemed to be offering him solutions.

"Well, sir, it's just that, it seems to us like you have one of the strongest armies. We've heard how you took on giants, sir! Why can't you use your might to get you the money you desire?"

He wanted to scream about how dumb the man was, and was about to do just that, when a realization it. "We do have strength, don't we? Often that's not enough to take over another country. Too much politics is involved. But … perhaps we've been looking at this all wrong."

James laughed suddenly. Yes, yes, this might do. For once, his father might actually find him to be smart. The young prince patted the peasant on the shoulder, startling everyone. "You've just ensured we don't take anything from your village today, my good man. You should be proud." The village wouldn't have to worry about making it through the winter, and James would still be able to get what his father desired.

* * *

That didn't make it any easier for the prince to confront George. Truth was hard. Truth was sharp, like the holly. It lead to fights, and yelling. Perhaps that was why James paused outside his father's door, before forcing his way in.

"They had no gold, but I have another way to get the money."

"Go on." George was calculated, instead of yelling. The truth was working its magic after all.

"Midas. He was complaining about a dragon last time he was here. It's destroying his lands. As we all know, I've fought giants. I've fought pretty much everything. Midas has unlimited wealth literally at his fingertips. All we have to do is offer to kill the dragon, and he'll pay us a hefty sum for it."

James didn't often get hugs from his father. He was stiff and couldn't hold still as the man's arms wrapped around him. It didn't feel right. When he pulled back slowly, the look in his father's eyes was the look he had when counting his gold, not a look he usually reserved for his son. "Look at that, brains as well as brawn. Good job son!"

James didn't feel good though. He felt miserable. But he didn't show it until he left his father's chambers. In the hallway, he grabbed two fistfuls of holly, not caring that the leaves cut into his hands. He crushed the leaves and berries in his hands. His hands felt sticky. He didn't care. He was too busy thinking about how this sharp, bristly, toxic plant somehow seemed more welcoming than his own father.

"Least I managed to please him. This time," he murmured to himself. But what would happen next time they were out of money? Would he have to take from that little girl who'd looked at him in fear, and her father who'd dared to stand up to him to protect his family?

Sometimes, more often than he'd like to admit, James wished he'd had a different life. A simpler life. But he'd tried for that life, and he hadn't been the only one to pay the price for his attempts to escape the throne. No, no, it was better to play the games he hated. Less people suffered that way. Less people were exposed to the toxin that was his father.

He sighed, unclenching his hands and letting the fistfuls of holly fall to the floor. Bits of leaves and crushed berries lingered with a few drops of his blood. And yet, the plant had taken less from him, and from the country, than his father ever had.

James turned away from the mess on the floor, making his way to his bedchambers. He'd solved the problem temporarily. He'd just have to hope that next year, when holly lined the halls again, the problem would still be solved, and he wouldn't be back in the same situation once.


	4. December 4 - Bugle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Bashful works very hard to make a thoughtful gift for his brother.
> 
> Characters: Bashful, Sleepy, Doc, and Grumpy

Since the curse had broken, some of the Seven Dwarfs had failed to find items that had been important to them in the past. Bashful was lucky that he had found everything he remembered caring about, but not all of his brothers were so lucky. That was why he'd been busy the past several days.

He didn't normally work with brass, or did he? He didn't think he'd made this before, but it came so easy to him. Something about the metal in his hand made him second guess everything. It was so easy for him to work with, and even though the bugle wasn't his favorite instrument, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing with the metal. He normally worked with silver or gold in his line of work, but this was different.

Focused on hammering the metal, and twisting it without breaking it to form the proper shape of a bugle, Bashful quite easily lost track of time. It was late in the night when he finished. He'd planned on it taking a couple of days, but he hadn't meant to stay up to finish it.

Bashful stared at the shimmering metal in his hands, running a finger along the smooth, polished metal. Normally, he had one of his brothers call him if he thought he might get stuck on a project. He hadn't thought he'd get so focused on this instrument. He'd thought he'd have to pause repeatedly to figure out what he was doing. That hadn't been the case.

Now that he was looking at this instrument, he was almost sure he'd made it before, and likely for a present for Hanukkah. But when? He supposed it was like his other memories he couldn't explain. When had he found out he was trans? When had he found out what Hanukkah was? All those were faint memories in his head that he couldn't access. Bossy said it was just part of being a dwarf. Doc said they might have had a life before Bossy and before hatching out of the eggs. Bashful was more inclined to trust Doc.

It was so late; too late. Bashful couldn't stop a yawn from escaping his mouth, even though he tried to hold it back. Putting the instrument down delicately on a table, Bashful cleaned up his workshop and left it for the night. He'd have to wait for a few days to unveil his creation anyway.

* * *

Bashful knew the perfect time to deliver his present. He had to wait a day extra, but it was worth it. He wanted it to be at a time his brother could use the gift, and at a time they'd all be together.

As the shy dwarf walked up to Doc's house, he could tell the doctor and a few others were already there. He could hear Grumpy already banging away at the piano in Doc's living room and he could hear two string instruments warming up. It was likely Sleepy and Grumpy had carpooled with Doc since they all worked at the hospital, Bashful thought as he rang the doorbell.

Doc was quick to usher him in with a smile and then a look of confusion quickly following. "Two instruments, Bashful? But you can't play two instruments at once," he pointed out as he gestured to the two cases Bashful was carrying. Bashful smiled, shaking his head to indicate he wasn't going to explain just yet. Doc shrugged, leading the way back into his very spacious living room.

There was a reason they met at Doc's house to dance and sing. His house was the biggest and could most easily accommodate the seven brothers and occasionally their found sister Snow White as well. One of the brother's favorite things to do was take songs and make them work on their chosen instruments, even if they weren't included in the songs originally.

Doc picked up his cello, which was already out. Bashful pulled out his flute, playing a few notes to warm up. Sleepy looked dejected as the others practiced. He had one of Doc's extra instruments in his hands; a violin. But Sleepy preferred brass, and Doc only had string instruments and the piano, so he couldn't play his preferred instrument. Or, he couldn't until Bashful slid over the other case to him with a smile. "Happy Hanukkah, brother." Sleepy opened it, and gasped. Doc moved closer to Sleepy with concern on his face. Bashful silently stood, looking on with worry. He should have thought about his brother's medical condition. Too many emotions could make him pass out. Narcolepsy was pretty awful … but somehow Sleepy didn't pass out this time. Instead, tears filled his eyes as he looked over at Bashful.

"Where'd you find it?"

It took a second for Bashful to understand the question. Find it? "This isn't your old one Sleepy. I got you a new one. I … made it."

Sleepy looked at his instrument even closer, running his hand along the side of it gently. Sleepy had found a bugle in an abandoned dwarven town they'd run across after escaping Bossy. That's where most of them had found an instrument they enjoyed. But did this truly look so similar?

Apparently, it did. Sleepy was shaking his head. "It's a bit shinier. Otherwise, could have sworn it was my old one Bashful. But you made this? Thank you." He clutched the instrument to his chest as he offered Bashful a smile.

Bashful had been nervous about this but his feelings started to fade a bit as he remembered Hanukkah was a time of miracles. He'd managed to recreate an instrument for his brother, just when they thought they wouldn't be able to find anything like this again. Somehow, this seemed very fitting for the holiday.

Bashful's brothers didn't seem to notice he was deep in thought. Grumpy soon started to pick at the piano keys again, looking back to grin at his brothers. "Well, come on then. We should try it out before the others get here to fawn all over it. What do you say, Sleepy? Wanna try a song? You know, Tom said he's bringing latkes …"

As soon as he spoke the words, he started playing a lively tune on his piano. One that the brothers instantly recognized. Bashful giggled for a second, before putting the flute to his lips and playing along, figuring out the notes as he went. Sleepy seemed especially happy, and despite his name, lively, as he figured out how best to play along to the music.

But it was Grumpy and Doc who sang the words, Grumpy taking the harmony as the song was originally sung by a woman, and Doc's voice was much higher than his brothers.

"I am a latke, I am a latke,

And I am waiting for Hanukkah to come!"

Not that they really had to wait all that much longer. Bashful felt they were already enrapturing the spirit of Hanukkah. Giving gifts to family and to charity was just part of the season, and he'd already started giving gifts to his brothers. For them, almost nothing was better than the gift of music. He tapped his foot to the beat, and played the notes along with his brothers. All Bashful could do was hope his other brothers would get there soon to share in the fun. He no longer had time to worry about the strange almost-memories that had been stirred up when making his brother's beautiful bugle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: The song they are singing/playing is "The Latke Song" by Debbie Friedman. If you're interested, I'd suggest going to listen to it. It's a very fun song!
> 
> Also, I hope everyone enjoyed my first Hanukkah story! There will (hopefully) be a few more scattered throughout.


End file.
